


Jeremy at the Party

by simply_nerdy_foster



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz (Two River Cast) RPF
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Drinking, F/M, Jeremy/Rich is only briefly mentioned it is not a real thing, M/M, Mentions of Suicidal Thoughts, Michael is high and Jeremy is drunk, Post-Squip, Squip Christine and Rich are only mentioned, That's not a thing anymore, They talk about The Party, also Jeremy/Christine is like a past tense thing, smoking pot, though i kinda ship it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-06-21
Packaged: 2019-05-13 10:54:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14747498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simply_nerdy_foster/pseuds/simply_nerdy_foster
Summary: When they finally talked about what happened at the Party, Jeremy was hungover. Michael couldn't blame him; it had been a rough time in their lives. Plus, Jeremy had put up with Michael smoking pot for years, so it was only fair.





	Jeremy at the Party

**Author's Note:**

> #TRIGGER WARNINGS FOR MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL, RAZOR BLADES, AND SUICIDAL THOUGHTS

It was February when they made the decision, on a Monday, to talk about what had happened at The Party, as they had come to call it. Michael wasn't too keen on it, even now. It was still painful. However, they had been too careful with each other since Jeremy was de-Squiped, and even more so since Christine had dumped him. They needed to talk, about everything. They settled on Thursday, because Friday was therapy.

Tuesday and Wednesday, Jeremy was acting strange. He wouldn't give Michael more than monosyllabic responses. It was like he didn't want to see him. On Thursday, Jeremy wasn't in school. Michael was a little worried, but he figured Jeremy just needed time to gather his thoughts. He certainly did. He kept wondering if he should tell Jer about his bathroom breakdown. He didn't want Jeremy to feel bad, but if they were gonna be totally honest, he kind of had to tell, right? But he needed to talk to Jeremy in person if they were going to do this.

So Thursday afternoon Michael skipped his last class and drove to the Heere residence. He pulled up to the curb to see Mr. Heere's car missing from the driveway, which was unusual. Michael pushed away the growing concern as he put his car in park and climbed out. 

The doorbell echoed as it rang, and there was a long silence on the other side. Growing impatient, Michael thumbed the button again. He heard someone, probably Jeremy, holler for him to hold his damn horses. Michael fought the urge to laugh. Even though the Squip had been deactivated, Jeremy still cursed. Michael assumed it helped him remember who he was trying not to be. 

The door creaked open, and Jeremy peeked his head out. He'd clearly been sleeping. His hair was a mess and the bags under his eyes were more pronounced than usual. But his eyes were also bloodshot, like he'd been crying. Or drinking. 

"Michael?" He muttered. Oh yeah, he had definitely been drinking. Michael could smell stale alcohol. 

"Hey, Jer. Let me in?" 

Jeremy let Michael push the door wide enough for him to enter. The house was in its usual state of disarray: magazines littered the coffee table, and one of Mr. Heere's socks was on the arm of the sofa. "Let's go upstairs."

They trudged to Jeremy's room in silence. As the door shut, Jeremy winced. He asked, "Is Dad still gone?"

Michael nodded. "Yeah. Is he at the store?" 

"Mmhm. He said he needed to grab something for dinner. Probably frozen pizza." The silence stretched until Jeremy rubbed the back of his head. "So..." 

"You haven't been in class," Michael said. "You're not trying to avoid me again, are you?" He hated that little crack in his voice. 

Jeremy blinked. "Jeez, of course not. I've been sick, Michael." 

"Sick because of the booze?" asked Michael. "I can smell it." He flopped onto a beanbag chair.

"Maybe a little," Jeremy admitted. He sat down next to his friend. "I had a killer migraine yesterday. Rich told me a few weeks ago that it happens sometimes. He said booze distracts him." 

Michael snorted. "And monkey see, monkey do?"

A pale red snaked across Jeremy's face. "Not really, but I remembered what the Squip said about how alcohol messes him up. I didn't have any Mt. Dew Red on me. But I think I drank too much. I threw up yesterday after Dad went to bed, and my head is killing me."

Michael nodded. He could understand why Jeremy would take precautions. If that thing had been in his head, he'd want to keep it gone too, whatever the cost. He grabbed a controller. "So no shrieking like a banshee, got it. Come on, let's play Apocalypse of the Damned." 

Jeremy shook his head, even as he grabbed the other controller. "I thought you came over to talk?" He asked. 

"I did," Michael replied. "We can talk while we play. Fire it up, bro." 

"Isn't that stoner slang?" 

"Just turn the game on, Heere." As Jeremy did as instructed, Michael reclined a little more and let his head loll until he was looking at the ceiling. "You still have the glow stars?" 

Jeremy looked over at him from the tv. "Yeah, dude. There's so way I would take those down. Even if I'd wanted to, I can't reach them." 

Michael lifted his head. "What happened to being a 'tall-ass'?" 

"Still a tall-ass, but again, the ceiling is too high. I guess I could've gotten the ones above the bed, but I wouldn't let him." Jeremy plunked down next to Michael again as the title screen flickered on. 

"Who?" 

"My Squip. He wanted to take them down, but I said no." Jeremy seemed avidly focused on the television. 

Michael almost paused the game to get Jeremy to look at him, but he knew that would be useless. Jeremy would just snatch his controller. "Even after the Party?" 

A shrug. "After that, I was busy trying to get Christine to like me, or trying to make sure the play didn't flop. Watch out!" 

"Ah!" Michael shot the offending zombie in the head. "Thanks. I mean, the play flopped anyway." 

"True, but after Mr. Reyes told the school board what was going on, they gave him another shot." Jeremy hacked apart a horde with an axe he found.

It was Michael's turn to shrug. "I guess. Aren't you taking Drama this semester?" 

Jeremy nodded. "Yeah, I am. It's nice to be someone you're not for a little while, especially when you don't really like who you are." He surprised Michael by sniffing. 

"Man, are you crying?" Michael asked. 

"What? No, it's just... allergies," denied Jeremy. 

"You totally are." Now Michael paused the level, but Jeremy wouldn't look at him. "If you're already crying, I guess that's bad mojo for later." 

Jeremy flopped backwards and groaned. "Michael, do we have to do this today?" 

"Yeah, we do. The shit that happened at that Party was lame, but we gotta talk about it sometime, Jer. You can't keep running from your mistakes." Michael grabbed Jeremy's controller and placed them both out of his reach. 

He kept his eyes focused on the ceiling. He seemed to be trying to forget Michael was in his room. "'m not running, I already apologized." 

Michael fought the urge to yell in frustration. "Uh, newsflash, jackass: no, you didn't," he snapped. 

That got Jeremy's attention. He went stock still. "Yes, I did." 

"No. You apologized to literally everyone but me, because we never talked about it." Michael watched the disbelief on his friend's face morph into disgust. For a second, he was almost convinced that look was for him personally. 

Jeremy sat up quickly, then grabbed his head. "Ow," he hissed. He held out his other hand before Michael could move. "I'm fine. I just- I need a minute." 

"Sure. I'll go get a soda. Want anything?" Jeremy shook his head slowly. "5 minutes, Jeremy." Michael heaved himself to his feet, and quietly left the room. Jeremy didn't react in any way, just kept staring at the tv.

Michael clunked down the stairs into the kitchen. He pulled a can of Pepsi from the fridge and popped the tab, taking a long sip. 

He had to figure out how he was gonna do this. He could just be straight about it, but he'd learned that that didn't usually work with Jeremy. If anything, Jer would just freak out on him. Of course, watching him try to recover from the Squip was watching him freak out over a lot of things. The first time Michael saw Jeremy talk to Mr. Reyes at school, Jeremy almost had a breakdown. Michael wanted to help him, but he didn't know how anymore. 

He took another drink before setting the can on the counter. The clock above the stove said it has been 4 minutes. Time to go back upstairs. 

Michael was halfway to the stairs when he heard a crash upstairs. He moved faster, taking the stairs two at a time. "Jeremy?" He called. 

Outside of Jeremy's room, he stopped. He heard shaky breathing, a lot of muttering, and finally a sob. He pushed the door open. "Jer?" 

Jeremy was standing in the middle of the room, holding his arms tight around himself. His face was streaked with tears. A picture frame was busted on the ground. There was glass everywhere. Jeremy looked at him. "Michael?"

Michael was glad he still had his shoes on. He crossed the room quickly, until he was in front of his friend. "What happened?" He asked. 

"I-I dunno," Jeremy whispered. "I was trying to remember. If I apologized to you, you know, and I thought- I thought I heard a voice. In my head. One that wasn't mine." He began to shake.

Michael sighed, and grabbed one of Jeremy's arms. He tugged his friend into a tight hug. Jeremy hiccuped. "It sounded like him, Micha. It sounded like-" 

"I know. I know it did. It wasn't him," Michael told him. "We shut him down, it wasn't him. You need to calm down, Jeremy." 

"How?" 

"Breathe," Michael said. "If you don't calm down, you could blow chunks again. I don't want vomit in my hair, Heere." 

Jeremy laughed weakly. The shaking had lessened, Michael noticed. "Michael, I'm sorry." 

"For which thing?" Michael joked. 

Jeremy stepped away from him. "I'm being serious, dickweed." His eyes were still shining, but he looked calmer. He looked down at the picture frame. "Shit. I should clean that up before Dad gets home." 

"I'll get the broom and dustpan," Michael said. He jogged to the bathroom and grabbed it, avoiding the mirror.

He came back to find Jeremy using a shoe to catch up the smaller pieces of glass. Passing Jeremy the broom, he obediently held the dustpan while Jeremy swept glass into it. They worked in silence. 

When Jeremy left the room, Michael knelt down to pick up the frame. The corner was busted, probably beyond repair. He slipped the photo out and tossed the frame in the trash. Then he flipped the photo over. 

It was Jeremy and Brooke at the Party. Jeremy looked halfway to wasted, and Brooke was making some weird pose in her slutty dog costume. Whoever took the picture was taller than Brooke, at least, because Michael could see people behind her. He was startled to recognize the back of his head near her shoulder. 

"Michael?" Michael looked up. Jeremy was looking at the photo next to him. 

"Did you know I'm in this?" Michael asked. "Back there, behind Lohst." 

Jeremy took the picture. "That was a weird costume," he muttered. He brought the picture so close to his face that Michael made a note to make a glasses joke later. "Oh. You are." 

Michael stood up and belly flopped onto the bed. There was a moment of silence. "That night sucked," he said finally. 

"It really did." Jeremy sat down next to him. "Chloe tried to make me have sex with her." 

"Oh no, one of the hottest girls in school wanted you to fuck her." Michael rolled his eyes, then rolled onto his back. 

Jeremy snorted. "I was dating Brooke, I wasn't gonna do that to her." 

"Yeah, well, at least you weren't crying in a bathroom." Yeah, Michael didn't mean to sound so venomous. He supposed they were actually talking about this now, and tried to mentally prepare. Which didn't really work.

"What?" Jeremy scooted around to face him.

"You heard me, Heere. Crying. Bathroom. Really not fun to have your best friend basically tell you to screw off when you're trying to talk some sense into him." Michael threw an arm over his face. He wasn't in the mood for the inevitable Heere Face. 

Jeremy grappled for words for a long time. Finally, he came up with, "I never actually told you to screw off." 

"Oh sure, that makes it loads better," Michael snapped vehemently.

"Michael-" 

"No. My turn to talk now. You're gonna shut up and listen this time." He leveled a glare at Jeremy, who quickly shut his mouth. "You messed up pretty bad, Jeremy. You messed  _me_ up pretty bad. It was hell when you ditched me there. I was gonna try and take it easy on you, you know? When we finally talked about it? But it looks like you waited too damn long. Again. Cause you wanna know something?" Michael pushed himself completely off the bed and walked over to the door. 

A glance back gave him Jeremy sitting on his bed, watching him with a mournful look on his face. "Micha?" 

Michael shook his head and closed his eyes. He didn't want to see the aftermath of his words. "Don't. Not right now. After what happened at the Party, I wanted to die, Jeremy. I wanted to kill myself, I wished I'd never been born." His eyes opened of their own accord, unable to keep Jeremy out of sight. His vision was blurred. "Cause then I wouldn't have had my best friend stab me in the back." He yanked open the door, hiding Jeremy's horrified expression. He stalked out of the room, not bothering to close the door behind him.

His feet took him back into the bathroom, where he gently shut the door and perched on the counter by the sink. He let his head fall back against the mirror as he felt the burn in his eyes. "Stop it," he told himself. "You're not allowed to cry about him anymore." He wiped his eyes furiously. 

He heard Jeremy leave his room. "Michael?" He called. Michael didn't answer, too focused on shutting off the waterworks. It was way different than the last time Michael was crying in a bathroom, but his emotions were almost identical. "Michael, please don't leave, _please._ " 

Michael knew the moment Jeremy realized the bathroom door was shut. His footsteps sped up. "Mell, open the door." His voice was frantic, and Michael knew why. Admitting to wanting to die and then shutting himself up near the razors could only give a person so many ideas.

"Fuck off." 

Jeremy gave the door a light kick. "This is my house. Open the damn door." 

Michael sighed shakily. "Not locked, dick." 

The doorknob twisted. Jeremy's tearstained face came into view. He looked surprised to see Michael on the counter rather than sitting on the toilet, or maybe it was because Michael's traitorous eyes were still leaking. "Jeez, Michael..." 

Michael put his feet on the floor and pushed. He nearly hit the wall, but Jeremy moved enough for him to prepare to push past. "Don't, Jeremy. Just don't. I'm gone." 

"Wait." Jeremy grabbed at his wrist as he tried to leave. Michael yanked, but Jeremy was stronger than he looked these days. Michael cursed the Squip all over again. 

"Let go of me. Hey!" Michael tensed as Jeremy let go of his wrist and flung his arms around him. "Heere, get off! Let me leave, dammit!" 

"I'm fucking sorry, okay?" Jeremy snapped. "It's nowhere near enough, I know, but I'm sorry. The Squip said that I could get popular and bring you into the fold later. I believed him." 

Michael hit Jeremy on the back. "Cause that worked so well. Now let me _go._ " 

Jeremy finally let go of him, and he moved away immediately. "It was a really shitty thing of me, Michael. I don't know what else there is to say."

"Then stop before you get a brain aneurysm or something."

Jeremy smiled a little. He rubbed his face. "Probably a stupid question, but are we cool?" He offered a fist.

Michael sighed. "Not cool, because I'm still pretty pissed. But we can try okay. See if you don't screw me over again, yeah?" Jeremy nodded, and Michael bumped his fist.

They watched each other cautiously. Michael was still angry, but he knew he would time to work through that. Jeremy just looked scared. "Are you- are you still gonna leave?" There was the Heere Face, that face of something like begging that Michael just couldn't say no to. It was annoying sometimes.

He sighed. "No, I'm not gonna leave. I'll stay at least until your dad gets back, because I don't trust you to be alone right now."

"Wise move, probably." Jeremy gave a weak laugh. "I have a lot more stuff to work on than I thought. I kinda wish the Squip was still here, just so I could yell at him." 

Michael glanced at him sharply. "Don't ever say that when I'm around. The Squip fucked up everyone and everything around it, especially you. Yeah?" Jeremy nodded hastily. "Now can we get back to Apocalypse of the Damned, please?" 

Jeremy grinned. His eyes were still shining, but he seemed alright. "Duh. Race you?" 

"Oh, it's on." Michael shoved Jeremy and took off, ignoring his indignant shout. 

Michael won, of course. He barreled into the room and crash into his beanbag chair with a triumphant yell. Jeremy apparently attempted the same, because when Michael turned around, only his head was resting on the beanbag.

Back in Jeremy's room, controllers were located and game unpaused. Jeremy sat ramrod straight in his beanbag while Michael reclined way too far back in his. "Any other secrets you need to tell me?" Jeremy joked as he blasted a zombie. 

'I've had a slightly homo thing for you for like two years' didn't seem like a good thing for Michael to bring up now. He settled for, "I'm kinda gay." 

Jeremy snorted. "How gay is kinda?" Michael was mildly offended he wasn't more shocked. 

"Still into chicks, kinda into dudes, too. Willing to experiment. What about you? You hiding anything?" Michael saw that Jeremy's character was surrounded by a massive group of zombies, and held out a hand. They swapped controllers. 

Jeremy shrugged. "Not really," he said absentmindedly, focused on the game. "Oh, wait. Rich and I kissed." 

"Woah, woah, woah, hold up! You kissed Rich Goranski?" Michael couldn't afford to look at him, but he knew Jeremy had noticed his expression.

"Yeah, it was a while ago." Jeremy flinched as Michael's character was killed. "Whoops."

Michael gave up on trying to save Jeremy's character; the horde around him was too big. He let him die, then paused on the reload screen. "I didn't know he was bi." 

Jeremy looked both embarrassed and smug. "Neither did he. He found out after the fire smoked out his Squip. He calls it his 'gaywakening.'"

Michael pushed his arm. "Come on, dude, details! Why'd he decide to kiss you?" 

"I was around, mostly. And I might have told him that I had some doubts of my own," Jeremy admitted. Michael's eyes went wide. "I know, it sounds ridiculous. The guy who spent so much time chasing after Christine Canigula, who literally ate a computer for her, not sure about his sexuality. Rich thought it was hilarious." 

"So, he asked you first, right?" Michael questioned. 

Jeremy nodded. "Course he did. He's not the same Rich he was when he was Squipped. He asked, and since I was kinda curious I said yeah." 

Michael rolled his eyes. "Jer." 

"Why do you always ask embarrassing shit, Michael?" Jeremy complained. 

"Kissing someone isn't embarrassing, Heere." He watched Jeremy become extremely interested in his controller. "Jeremy?" 

Jeremy groaned. "It wasn't just a kiss, dumbass!" 

Michael's jaw dropped. "Holy shit, did you-" 

"No! No no no no no! Stop right there!" Jeremy clapped a hand over Michael's mouth. "We did not have sex! We just... made out a little. Ew!" He flung himself away. "Did you just lick my hand?" 

"Maybe." Michael had no remorse. "How was making out with Rich?" 

Jeremy wiped his hand on a pillow. "It was- it was nice, okay? He's good at it." 

"Lame."

"Shut up, it's not like I have much experience with this stuff," Jeremy stated. "What am I even supposed to say?"

Michael flipped his controller. "Did it answer your questions?" 

"Kinda? I think I'd need more experience to know for sure." 

The pillow was stolen and used to cover Michael's face. "Shit, Jeremy, you made out with a guy and you still don't know? Should we get Jake over or something?" 

"Jake is straighter than a ruler." Jeremy flopped back in his beanbag chair. "Though I don't really know any other guys at school..." 

Michael spoke without thinking. "You know me," he deadpanned. He tried to smother himself with the pillow, hoping his voice was too muffled. 

"Wait, what? Micha, did you just offer to..." Jeremy grabbed the pillow and threw it across the room, exposing Michael's softly reddened face. "Holy shit, you did." 

Michael sat up and decided to go for it. "You've got questions that can only be answered by a not-totally-straight guy, and lo and behold, there's a not-totally-straight guy right here in your bedroom. I'm your friend, Jer. Here if you need me and all that, you know? So why not? It'd be totally no homo." 

Partially to Michael's horror, Jeremy seemed to actually be considering it. He was muttering to himself, doubtless trying to weigh the pros and cons. He did it a lot after he was deSquipped. Michael resigned himself to weirdness from Jeremy for the next few weeks and leaned back again. 

Some time later, the muttering ceased, and the only sound was the AOTD music. Michael was counting the stars. Some had fallen off; the last count had been 37. Now it was down to 34. "Michael? You still alive?" 

"Yep." 

Jeremy clucked his tongue. "I thought about it. It does make sense, but..." 

"Spit it out, Heere." Michael began to count the stars again, to make sure he hadn't missed any. 

"Strictly no homo?" Jeremy muttered. 

Michael stopped. Blinked. Sat up and stared. "Huh?" He said intelligently. 

"You said, if this happens, it's no homo, right?" 

Michael bit his cheek. "It can't be totally no homo, considering that we're trying to figure out if you're any homo or not. Slightly homo, I guess?" 

"No bromo," Jeremy blurted. They locked eyes and dissolved into a fit of laughter. When they recovered, Jeremy was smiling almost fondly at Michael. "Okay, so slight homo then."

The awkwardness suddenly skyrocketed. "Um, just, here." Michael grabbed Jeremy's beanbag and tugged. Jeremy almost toppled as it moved. "You gotta get closer." Jeremy raised himself a bit, and the bag almost hit Michael. "Shit," Michael swore. "Careful." 

"Sorry." 

"Yeah, yeah. C'mere, Heere." Michael patted the beanbag, and Jeremy settled down again. "The real question. Do you actually know how to kiss, or is that a priority here?" 

"Uh, I mean, kinda. I kissed Christine a couple times, and Brooke. And of course Rich. So I'm probably okay?" Jeremy shrugged. "If there's still anything I don't know, I'll pick it up as I go, right?" 

Michael nodded. "That's usually how it goes." He scooched himself closer, crossing his legs to keep some distance between them. "Ready, Jer?" 

Jeremy startled a bit, but nodded. He moved his hands around before settling them on his knees. 

Michael saw no reason to hesitate. With no further preamble, he leaned forward and kissed his best friend. 

It was awkward as hell at first. Their noses bumped, and Jeremy was clearly nervous; he kept trying to readjust. It was frustrating. Finally, Michael wrapped a hand around the back of his neck to keep him still. 

That changed things. It wasn't just weirdly smooshing lips together anymore, it was a real kiss. Jeremy put a hand on Michael's thigh. 

Michael slid his hand up into Jeremy's hair. It was finally starting to grow out again. He liked it better this way. Jeremy leaned into his touch. 

He surprised Michael by gently grabbing his lower lip with his teeth. Rich had taught him a thing or two. He didn't mind, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. He reciprocated in kind by tugging Jeremy's hair, swallowing the noises. It was much more pleasant than his previous kisses. Jeremy seemed to feel the same.

When Michael pulled away, Jeremy followed him. The second kiss was less awkward, though more uncomfortable because Jeremy was almost in his lap and that boy was too tall for that. The making out trailed into gentle pecks and shifting to get more comfortable. They ended up curled on the beanbag chair together, Michael's head on Jeremy's chest. 

"Well, uh," Jeremy started. "That was..." 

Michael picked it up. "Pretty gay?" 

"Yeah. Definitely kinda homo." 

"You or that?" 

Jeremy thought about it. "Yes," he said simply. Michael laughed. "You, uh, you were really into that, Micha." 

Michael shrugged, which was kind of difficult. Now seemed like a good time to say it. So he did. "I may have a slight homo thing for you, bro." 

He almost grew worried, with how long the silence stretched out. 

"Bro? You're gonna say you're gay for me and tack bro to it?" Jeremy shifted to look down at him. 

"Clearly." Michael's voice softened. "You're my best friend, Jer. You're amazing and handsome and a hell of a lot stronger than I am." 

Jeremy blushed. "Stop it." 

"No. I'll compliment you all I want, deal with it." Michael grinned. Jeremy's hand covered his mouth. "Hey!" 

"How long has this been going on, Michael?" Jeremy asked quietly. 

Michael sobered up and pulled Jeremy's hand away, impulsively lacing their fingers together. "You want honesty?" 

"Duh." 

Michael bit his lip. "About two years," he admitted. 

Jeremy made some sort of noise. "Wait, really?" 

"Yes, you naive tent pole. Even your dad knows by now." Michael snorted at the way Jeremy's eyes bugged out. "I know what you're gonna say. Yes, he's known for a while. He's known since- since October." He could still hear Mr. Heere's frantic and slightly confused 'do you love him?' 

"Woah... just woah." 

"He helped me figure it out, if I'm being honest. I started to put the pieces together after that. You and Christine were together a lot, so I had time to think." He was starting to ramble now. "He asked if I loved you, did you know that? He came to my house and he asked me 'do you love him?' And then I went to the play and saved your ass, and he never said it, but he knew. When you were with Christine, I was trying to root around in my own head-" 

"Michael." 

"Trying to figure out when, how long. Things started to make sense-" 

"Michael." 

"I finally began to understand why the Party had affected me so much, why  _you_ had fucked me up so bad. I realized that I was-"

"Micha!" 

Michael froze, and looked up. Jeremy was chuckling. "You were rambling," he stated. 

"I was? I thought that was an internal monologue." 

Jeremy actually laughed now. "You've been around Christine too much." Michael studied their clasped hands for a moment, then pushed down with his thumb. Jeremy's index finger popped. "Dude, what the hell!" He just laughed harder. Michael joined him. 

When they quieted down, Jeremy was looking down at Michael, expression indecipherable. "You said my dad asked if you loved me." 

"I did." It wasn't a question. 

Jeremy almost didn't ask, but Michael watched his curiousity get the better of him. "What did you tell him?" 

"Well, I didn't answer him. He was rattling about how he knew something was wrong, and then I made him go buy some pants, so we never actually talked about it." The memories were almost painful, right from the end. 

Jeremy's mouth twisted. "So he doesn't really know, you just assume he does." 

Michael shook his head. "No, he knows. He told me to be careful with you. I think he's afraid that if you get hurt, you might run off and Squip again." 

"He should know better. Besides, I don't even have the money to buy another one." It was like he hadn't processed anything else Michael had said. 

"Christine says I have a way of being 'obliviously obvious' when it comes to you," Michael said cautiously. 

That caught Jeremy's attention. "She did?" 

"Mmhm." Michael closed his eyes and snuggled closer to Jeremy. He was a bit surprised that Jeremy hadn't pushed him off. "Everyone knows by now that I'm in love with you. Rich has been trying to help me out with all of this, but-" All at once, he realized what he'd just admitted. He let go of Jeremy's hand to cover his face and sat up. "Shit," he muttered. "Shit, shit, shit! Jer, don't-" 

"In love?" Jeremy whispered. "Micha, you're in love with me?" 

Michael got up and began to pace. "Yes, okay! I'm fucking in love with you, and I have been for two fucking years. And I don't need to see your face to know that this isn't where you expected the day to go. It's not where I expected this to go." 

Jeremy grabbed Michael's arm as he passed. Michael nearly lost his balance until Jeremy got to his feet. "Michael, calm down." 

Michael sighed heavily, but didn't speak. 

"Michael, it's okay. Listen, Rich has been giving me some advice, too." 

"Wait. You planned this?" Michael raised an eyebrow. 

Jeremy shrugged. "I-I mean, yeah? Not the part where you yelled at me, but the, uh, the kissing Rich thing, yeah." His face was rapidly going red. "I wasn't lying, though. I-I did kiss Rich." 

Michael was silent for a while. Then he muttered, "Rich played both of us, didn't he?" 

"I guess. He said that he'd noticed how you acted after the Party. It was kind of genius, really. He told me he was pretty sure his gaydar was going off when he talked to you, and then he confronted me after Christine dumped me and basically demanded that I figure out the truth." 

Rich, that clever little bastard. "He told me that he knew I was into you, and he's been trying to help me sort throught this chaos." Michael thought about it. "I never had a plan, but he did, apparently. Guess it was either 'get tall-ass and lame-o together' or 'help lame-o get over tall-ass.'" 

Jeremy snorted. "So, uh, you weren't just saying that stuff because Rich told you to?" 

"No. He wanted me to tell you, but later. After we were chill again. Jeez, what a mess," Michael complained. 

"How's this a mess?" The hand on Michael's arm slid down until they were holding hands. "I might not be totally homo, but I'm not gonna regret kissing you, Micha. Ever." 

Michael grinned. "No? In that case, maybe we could try this. The whole boyfriends thing. And if it doesn't work, we can still be best friends, right?" He tried not to sound too hopeful. 

"Yeah. I can't think of a better outcome to this, honestly. I just want to keep you in my life, Michael," Jeremy announced. "Whether we're just bros or a thing." 

"Well, then." Michael grabbed Jeremy's other hand and kissed the back of it. It was amazing to think that he was allowed to now. "Jeremy Heere, will you be my boyf?" 

Jeremy burst out laughing. "Oh my god, seriously, Michael? I'd forgotten about that." His grin sent sparks through Michael's stomach. "But yes, Michael Mell, I'll be your boyf." 

"Rich is gonna flip," Michael commented. 

"Fuck Rich." 

"He's not really my type." Michael tugged Jeremy down to kiss him. "That would be you."


End file.
